


Ataraxia

by remylebae



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remylebae/pseuds/remylebae
Summary: Ataraxia (noun) a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquilityRemy is struggling at ice skating, and Rogue really isn't helping.





	Ataraxia

There are times when Remy LeBeau really hates his teammates, and right now is one of them. Remy has never been one for winter sports; he grew up in New Orleans, and he is not accustomed to snow. He much prefers the cooler, southern winters to the freezing cold ones that are common in the North. Today, the X-Men are lucky; it has been a long time since they’ve had a day off, that they haven’t been under attack. Remy normally wouldn’t complain about his day off being used for a group trip; after all, they are his friends. But ice skating is something he isn’t good at- or so he assumes. Remy has never ice skated in his life, but as he stares down at the skates he’s just rented, he knows there’s no way in hell this will go well for him.

Remy sits on one of the many benches outside the rental hut and laces up his boots, glancing at the ice rink swarming with people, all of various skill. He sighs, frowning; if it were up to him, he would be at a bar right now, chatting up beautiful women. Despite his lack of enthusiasm, Remy knows it is best that he came; he knows the others don’t like it when he separates himself from them. After all, they want him to feel _included_. Remy scoffs, standing. _Whatever_ , he thinks, carefully waddling over to the rink.

He steps into the rink and almost falls immediately; Remy does not take this as a good sign for what is to come, and he reaches for the wall, holding on for dear life. He grimaces as he shifts his weight to his other leg, then back, moreso walking on the ice than skating. He turns his head to the side and watches for a moment as the others speed past him gracefully, and he attempts to copy the movements their legs make, the result a poor shuffle that he doesn’t trust to do away from the wall. Storm glides past him smiling, and he knows she must be laughing at him in her head; he knows she doesn’t mean to come off as teasing him but she’s just _so damn good_ at this skating thing. He drops his gaze to his feet, then looks ahead of himself, knowing that he’ll increase his chances of falling if he only stares at his skates.

It takes him another ten minutes just to be able to let go of the damn wall, but even then he hovers close by, reaching out to grab it in order to steady himself more often than he finds himself skating. He hates this, he absolutely hates this, and he knows that must be evident on his face, but he doesn’t care. So what if they all see that he’s struggling, so what that it’s clear that he’s pissed and not enjoying himself- _at least_ , Remy figures, _I’m attemptin’ to do this. Dey can’t give me shit if I at least try my best out here._

Remy doesn’t think it could get any worse than him doing an embarrassingly bad attempt at skating in front of a bunch of six year olds who are, at the moment, kicking his ass at this, but then he hears a familiar chuckle and his heart fills with dread because he knows, _he knows_ that he will never live this down.

Rogue skates into view; visibly, she isn’t really doing that much better than him. If he had to compare, she is only doing as well as the aforementioned six year olds, but he knows better than to say this when he’s doing as bad as he is. She smirks at him, and he really wants to tell her to let him be, but part of him has gotten tired of suffering alone, and hey, at least now this will no longer be boring.

She stops in front of him, leaning against the wall that has now become his closest friend. “Y’really ain’t that good at this, are yah, Remy?”

She says this sweetly, too sweet for him to handle considering the funk he’s in. He glares at her, then attempts to skate around her; in response, she moves out of his way and starts to skate besides him. “Oh, don’t go ignoring me! Ah’m just messing with you, Swamp Rat,” she says with a playful huff.

“I really don’t want to ruin your fun,” Remy begins, glancing down at his feet before moving forward once more. “But I really, _really_ hate this.”

That all too familiar smile forms on Rogue’s lips once more. “What, they didn’t teach y’all ice skating in the Bayou?”

Remy rolls his eyes and allows himself a snort, knowing he needs to brighten up, knowing that he shouldn’t be rude to her just because she’s better at this than him. “And since when do dey teach skatin’ in Mississippi?” he retorts.

She laughs at his response, a lighthearted sound that resonates in his ears. “Ah started to learn once Ah moved up here,” she replies, running a hand through the thicket that is her hair, messy and undone from the biting wind. She swirls the white strands on one finger before releasing her locks. “Figured it would be something interesting to do. Never thought Ah was that good at it, but after watching you struggle for twenty minutes…,” she grins at him, he glares back. “Ah feel much more confident in my skill level.”

“Glad I’m making you feel good ‘bout yourself, _chère_ ,” Remy grumbles. “Lemme know if dere’s anyt’ing else dis Cajun can do for you.”

Rogue makes a sound with an upturned lilt that can only mean that _she does_ have something in mind. “Well now, Ah was thinking that once we’ve looped back round to the entrance, we could go off and get some hot chocolate? On a cold day like this, there’s nothing nicer.”

Remy can’t help it; he smiles, chuckling slightly, his foul mood dissipating with the idea of her proposal. He nods. “Hot chocolate sounds nice.”

They skate in silence; Remy knows that Rogue is probably wondering just how long this is gonna take, with him skating at a speed that could only rival a tortoise. She skates forward a few feet, then spins around and skates back to his side, repeating the action two, three times before Remy finally snaps. “Y’know, you could just wait for me on the benches, _petite_. I’m gonna be a while.”

Rogue shakes her head, and Remy can’t help but inwardly groan. “Ah think that would be rude of me, Remy,” she says, matching her pace to his own. “Although would it kill you to speed up, just a little?”

Remy frowns. This will end poorly, he knows it will, and yet he increases his speed just in the slightest, his face tense with concentration. Rogue smiles. “There yah go, you’re really starting to get a hang of t-”

Rogue’s words are cut off as the ice suddenly falls out from under Remy, or so it seems; he’s wandered too far from the wall, outside of the range of his safety net, and with a yelp he falls on the ice. He sits up quickly, his hip throbbing, hoping not too many people saw.

Rogue guffaws, and Remy’s head jerks in her direction; if he had any hope of remaining inconspicuous about his fall, her laugh has definitely drawn attention. Anger and embarrassment make his stomach tighten and he glares at Rogue as her loud laugh slowly dies away.

At least she has the nerve to look apologetic. “Ah’m sorry, Remy; it’s been a long time since Ah’ve seen someone wipe out that bad. ‘Nd what the hell was that noise?”

She laughs again, lighter this time, and despite how pissed he is, Remy can’t help but smile as well, forcing his anger to quelch. “I told you, dis skating t’ing ain’t really my strong suit. T’ought you could see dat, _chère_.”

She reaches out a hand. “Come on, Ah’ll help you up; your ass has got to be killing you.”

He accepts her hand, a sturdy grip, and he allows her to pull himself up, but then he feels the same loss of balance as before, and he can’t even get the words out before he falls again, this time taking her with him with an “Umph!”

For a moment, they just lay on the ice, their legs entangled and eyes locked on each other. It’s only a second of silence and then they laugh, the tension dissipating as they unlock their legs from each other, slowly pushing themselves off the ice, wincing and rubbing at the spots that took the most impact on the fall, their thighs and shoulders. They stand up slowly this time, without the help of the other; it seems smarter this way.

Once they’re standing, Rogue offers him her hand, which he accepts with some hesitance. “We’ll get there eventually.”

~~~~~~~~

They’re sitting outside the rental hut that also happens to sell hot chocolate, something Remy hadn’t noticed earlier, and Remy is cold and shivering, and he’s _so damn tired_ of being out here and skating, but the others are still enjoying themselves, and at least now he’s off the ice. He’s returned his and Rogue’s skates and is lacing up his own bladeless boots as Rogue sits down with their drinks in hand, offering him a smile that he can only describe as supportive, as if he were going through some trying time and not miserably failing at ice skating.

She hands him his drink and for a moment he just holds it, considering it, then reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a flask. Rogue scoffs. “Remy! What the hell!”

He smiles at her as he undoes the cap. “Brought dis in case of emergency. Just a little something to ease the pain, take the edge off.” He pours a liberal amount of amber liquid into his drink, not sure if it will taste good but needing something stronger than just chocolate. He closes the flask, then puts it away. “I have a feeling I’m gonna be bruised and battered, come tomorrow.”

“And you really need alcohol to help with that?”

He sips his hot chocolate, raising his eyebrows at her. “Just needed somet’ing with a little bit more of a kick.”

They drink in silence, and he’s watching the skaters again, and he can’t help but be jealous when his eyes land on Jean and Scott, who are holding hands and sliding across the ice effortlessly. Remy wants that, deep down, despite how plain it seems. He normally isn’t a man that dreams of a big house and white picket fence, but regardless he finds himself staring longingly at the two, so obviously in love and not having anything that’s holding them back. He frowns, looking back at Rogue. They just couldn’t seem to get a break.

“How long ‘til you t’ink we’ll leave here?” he asks.

“Probably another hour,” Rogue replies, her gaze falling on their friends. “They seem to be enjoying themselves. They have no reason to rush.”

Remy frowns, a shiver running down his spine. He wasn’t so sure he liked the idea of having to wait in the cold for an hour. “It’s freezing, Rogue. I really don’t want to sit out here for dat long.”

“Well,” she begins, a grin forming slowly. “If you get too cold we could always put some skates back on and go back out on the ice. Ah’m sure that’ll warm you up good.”

Remy shakes his head then downs his drink. “No t’anks. I’d rather freeze.”

~~~~~~~~

By the time they finally start heading to the van they came in, Remy is exhausted. He’s normally better at hiding when he’s this tired, but he’s had a long day and the endless bitching soured his mood enough that all he wants is to sleep. Or, at the very least, be alone. He should have come on his bike, but someone- Remy assumes it was Jean- had requested that they all come in the same vehicle, the sort of thing a soccer mom would use to lug her army of kids around in.

He climbs into the back and takes a window seat, not surprised when Rogue sits down beside him. Jean and Scott take the front, and Remy thinks this is quite fitting, how they always seem to play the couple of the group. The doors shut as the others enter, and Jean turns the radio to a pop station that seems to be playing the same fifteen songs every hour. He knows this because the ride to the rink had taken two. Remy sighs; he is not excited for this ride back, and hopes he falls asleep quickly.

Beside him, Rogue is humming along to the radio. Remy likes this sound, likes how content she seems to just sit and listen. He moves his gaze to the window and raises his arm to rest on the plastic surrounding it before resting his head down. He watches trees speed past, blurring together, and he focuses on the sound of Rogue softly humming and the warmth of her body against his.

His eyes are heavy, and he’s about to let them close when he feels her reach out and rest a hand gently on his knee. “Remy?”

“Hmm?” He opens his eyes and glances in her direction, attempting to look more awake than he is.

“You ‘bout to fall asleep there, Sugah?” He simply nods, and she smiles, opening her arms to him and gesturing with a hand. “Come here.” He faces her, confused, and she chuckles before explaining herself. “Ah’ll letcha curl up on my lap. Figure you’ll sleep better than with your head banging ‘gainst the window.”

Normally he wouldn’t, but then Rogue reaches up and runs her gloved fingers through his hair and he concedes, allowing himself to slowly slide across her until his head is resting on her thigh, her fingers entangling in his hair in a way that is at once soothing and intimate in a way they can rarely be. Remy allows his mind to blank, allows himself to just feel and enjoy himself.

She’s humming again, and this song is more of a ballad and somehow it makes this even better.

He doesn’t know it, but Rogue’s mind is also blank; she’s allowing herself this comfort, this rare chance to hold him close to herself, and pretend that they could have something normal.

 

There are times when Remy LeBeau really hates his teammates, but right now is not one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the first fic I've posted anywhere in about three years, so I'm still trying to get the hang of it. Feel free to leave a comment!


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